


Out of Marble

by sunsetrose20



Series: The Real You [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mortality Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:01:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25180543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunsetrose20/pseuds/sunsetrose20
Summary: To be completely honest, Thor had wished to speak with Loki in private, but, considering Loki's decision two days ago, Thor hadn't wanted to send the wrong message.Unsurprisingly, Thor managed to do just that.
Relationships: Loki/Thor (Marvel)
Series: The Real You [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824250
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	Out of Marble

**Author's Note:**

> I couldn't help myself, so... sorry?
> 
> Thoughts, ideas, comments, and constructive criticism are always welcome.

"You did  _ what _ ?" Loki shrieked, his chair scraping against the floor as he jumped to his feet, and Thor winced. Not only because the reproach was tangible in Loki's voice, but because every single head in the café had whipped around in their direction. Thor wouldn't dare think their presence would be easy to overlook this time. Usually, Loki's seiðr prevented them from drawing too much attention to themselves, and Thor didn't doubt their faces would come out blurred in the pictures currently being taken of them, but the people present would remember Loki's face. To be completely honest, Thor had wished to speak with Loki in private, but, considering Loki's decision two days ago, Thor hadn't wanted to send the wrong message. 

Unsurprisingly, Thor managed to do just that.

"I said I would love you either way, did I not?" Thor answered, trying to smile sheepishly, hands rising in a placating gesture. No, perhaps  _ defensive _ would be more accurate.

Loki flopped down on his chair, head falling into his hands, and Thor already knew what Loki would say. "I really hope this isn't some weird, alien way to say you're expecting me to marry you or fuck knows, because… that's not… I'm eighteen! I shouldn't be thinking of this!"

Thor cringed at Loki's sudden, reasonable outburst. He knew what this looked like. "I'm not expecting anything different than what we agreed. Just a try, Luke. Right? If it works, it works. If it doesn't, I only ask that we remain friends."

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, and that gesture reminded Thor so much of his brother that guilt threatened to swallow him whole. Thor had sworn an oath, and he was a man of his word. He couldn't think of the person sitting before him, of the individual wearing his brother's face, of the soul wielding his brother's seiðr, as Luke. Not now. Not soon. "I want to hear this bullshit again. What did you do?"

"I abdicated," Thor repeated, and, yes, there was definitely a defensive tone in his voice now. "It was my decision. You made yours; I made mine."

"Right," Loki replied, finally letting Thor take a look at his face when his hands fell flat on the table. Thor couldn't resent Loki's wariness. "Thor, I think you missed the part where I, as the teen, should be the one doing stupid shit. Not you. That makes you a bad influence."

Trying to ignore the heat spreading across his cheeks, Thor looked away and crossed his arms over his chest. He couldn't claim his decision had nothing to do with Loki. That would be the worst and laziest lie ever uttered, one insulting to Loki. Thor hadn't denied it when Sif accused this new version of Loki—Luke—of having manipulated him into giving up the throne, and he wouldn't do so now. "I will not see you age without me."

Loki sighed, and, as always, Thor couldn't decipher the reason for it. It wasn't the disappointment Thor hadn't allowed himself to think of: the disappointment everyone in Asgard, his family and friends, must have been feeling. It wasn't the exhaustion of someone trying to convince a pigheaded idiot to reconsider. It certainly wasn't the bliss his brother would have expressed during the last year of his life. The Loki before him was most definitely not happy with Thor's possibly reckless decision to renounce the throne, his birthright, and everything ever destined for him, but perhaps it was a sigh of acceptance? A pretty word for defeat. 

Thor was optimistic, after all.

"So, now you're… what, human?"

"I imagine that's what happens when one resigns their godhood."

As Loki took his time to study him, staring intently at his face, Thor had the dawning impression that he was being tested. 

"Sure. Sounds logical. What about your hammer?"

Thor's lips twitched, quirking up in a bittersweet smile. That was a question he would never not associate with Loki, even though Stark had asked that same question in that exact tone a mere day ago. 

"I don't know," he admitted. "I left her in the throne room. Kind of in the middle of it, actually. I imagine Father will store her in the Weapons Vault." With a sigh of his own, Thor's gaze fell to the floor, his chest clenching with sorrow that had nothing to do with Loki. "I will miss my hammer."

It was worth it, though. A place in Loki's life, in whatever capacity Loki wished him to be, was worth any sacrifice. What Thor had been required to surrender was nothing—or at least very little—when compared to that. Compared to listening to Loki's breathing even out ever so slowly on the other end of the line. Compared to waking next to a version of Loki whose face was slack with sleep, not tense with the sorrow and despair he knew in another life, even if distant memories tended to slip through the veil every other lonely night. 

For a long time—and perhaps "some day" would be too soon—Thor wouldn't be able to forget the wrecked state of his mother. The last time Thor would ever see her and the first time he ever saw her lose her composure. But this, whatever "this" was, ought to be better than knowing his brother craved to spill his blood. Or at least thought he did? Thor was more inclined to believe the latter.

When his eyes met an incredulous stare, one accentuated by Loki's brows high up his forehead, Thor gladly welcomed back his defensiveness. At least part of his gloom eased at such familiar criticism.

"Her? Really?"

"See, Luke, this is the problem. You're just jumping at a chance to judge me, because I know that  _ you _ know how stupid Loki thought it was to refer to Mjölnir as a  _ she _ . He wrote extensively on this."

Loki's cheeks reddened most prettily, and, once more, Thor regretted that he couldn't bring himself to refer to him as  _ Luke _ within the confines of his mind. It wasn't fair. Thor was deeply aware of that. Multiple times, Loki had accused the love Thor harboured for him to be for someone else, someone Thor knew no longer existed, and Thor feared. He feared, because Loki could be right. No matter how many times Thor scolded himself, how many times he tried to think of him as  _ Luke _ , he couldn't. 

Not now.

Not soon.

"It  _ is  _ stupid," Loki grumbled, insisting on fighting a battle he had lost centuries ago. "How can a hammer be a she?"

With a hint of amusement that couldn't be overcome by the painful knowledge that he would never again feel the weight of Mjölnir in his hand, Thor shook his head reproachfully. "Not going to work. You already know what I will say."

Loki huffed, lightly kicking Thor under the table. "I made a better case."

"You were jealous."

"I was within my right to be resentful." 

Thor sucked in a deep breath and watched. Simply watched as Loki paused and blinked, as he shook his head and tried to distance himself from his past life. His past self, who Thor understood had been executed a little over eighteen years ago, yet…

Yet episodes such as this one prevented Thor from seeing the youth before him as only Luke. 

"So, what happens now? With the Avengers?"

Happy to change the topic, for Thor wished to respect Loki's decision as much as he wished Loki to respect his, Thor replied, "Nothing different. Steve and Natasha think I should spar with them. Get used to Mjölnir's absence before joining them on a mission. My battle training was diverse. I can perfectly fight without my hammer, but they don't wish to run the risk of me forgetting I no longer have Mjölnir at my disposal."

"I think that's a good idea."

Thor slouched forward, propping his chin on his palm. "I know. I'll have to get used to my new limits." He sighed. "I'll miss her weight in my hand and how my fingers wrapped around her handle. I'll miss spinning her and the surge of excitement as she pulled me off the ground. I'll miss the exhilaration of soaring through the sky, feeling weightless.”

And he would miss everything else. His mother, his father, his friends. His brother most of all. He would miss the seemingly unconditional devotion Asgard had fostered for him for as long as he could remember, and perhaps for way longer, Thor would be willing to bet.  _ Seemingly  _ was a vital word there, however. That devotion, the one the people had so often shouted at the top of their lungs, had come hand in hand with the expectation that his reign would be as glorious as his father’s. The expectation that they would be safe under his leadership and Asgard would prosper. Now, the king had been left without an heir, and Asgard’s future, whose splendour and glory no-one had ever doubted, had been plunged into the abysm of uncertainty. Asgard’s people had been stripped of their symbols and rendered vulnerable, left at the mercy of whatever misfortune might befall the realm. And Thor knew, of course, that this was a result of his selfish choice. 

Yes, selfish. There was no way around it. Had he been thinking of Loki and his wants, or had he been thinking of how he could not survive to remain young and hale whilst Loki withered away? He certainly hadn’t thought of his parents, much less of the people. The shock written all over his father’s face and the grief etching itself so deeply in his mother’s had felt so satisfyingly right at the moment that there had been no doubt in Thor’s mind that he was indeed making the right choice. Technically, since Thor could envision Loki raising this argument, there had been no need for him to surrender all he ever knew, for he had given Loki his word that his choice changed nothing. Thor would have withheld the liberty to embrace Loki however he wished. 

But, Thor couldn’t. He could not live with Loki’s frailty lurking at the back of his mind, waiting to devour him, because he could not, and would not, see Loki perish. Not without him. He refused to hold Loki’s hand, fragile from the inescapable passage of time and pale from upcoming death, whilst his remained strong and golden. His father had been right about one thing. Only one thing. That would be all Thor would attribute the man he could not truly resent for all the adoration he once inspired. Human lives were fleeting. One reason Thor had been nothing but content to be Jane’s friend. But one’s view of mortality, of time, and of impermanence changed if one was human. Or if one was simply exposed to them for long. Yes, Thor had heard humans say life was too short countless times, but he had not heard neither regret nor reproach in their voices. What he had heard was a valuable message. He had heard that one ought to seize every opportunity, enjoy life at its fullest, and cherish both the joys and the sorrows. That was what Thor planned to do. In the wake of all the people he had seen helplessly lying in a hospital bed after nature ravaged their homes, that was the picture Thor had of death. Of a mindlessly white room stenching of stale air, of a person slipping away so excruciatingly slowly, and how could his brother have not gone mad in the dungeons? No matter what he did, Thor could not erase the vision of Loki lying in such a room, his once midnight hair a silvery white shedding from his head, his then thin lips parting as he took his last breath, his once ever burning flame long smothered by the natural course of life.

Thor could not, and would not, undergo such torment. 

Loki had, once upon a time, told him that he had only wanted to be his equal, never the throne. Thor was in not so different a position.

A feather-light touch brushed over the back of his hand, and Thor wondered if, in his naivety, he had ever taken the time to drown in pools of such poison green. 

“Second thoughts? I mean, when was this? Yesterday? The night before? Maybe if you… I don’t know.”

Thor shook his head vehemently. “No. No such things. I simply wonder what state the realm has fallen into now that Father is in want of an heir.”

There it was again. That sigh. And Thor still didn’t know what it meant. To make matters worse, Loki ducked his head, hair falling around his face like a curtain, depriving Thor of the unguarded emotions Loki no longer knew how to conceal. This Loki could not help but wear his heart on his sleeve, and Thor drank it in greedily. When was the last time Thor saw something innocent shining on that face? The same beautiful face Thor had always known, pale enough that Thor feared he would burn in the sun, no longer carved out of marble.

“You know, I always had this suspicion you were stupid, or crazy, or maybe just that alien. Now I think it’s a mix. This, though? Yeah, most stupid thing you’ve done. Nothing will ever triumph it.”

Feebly, Thor smiled, intertwining his fingers with Loki’s. Even if he hadn’t heard the tremor in Loki’s voice, the tight squeeze Loki offered him put his worries to rest. Almost as if they had never been there to shake his foundations in the first place.

“I don’t think I could ever truly regret this,” Thor said, hoping his sincerity wouldn’t scare Loki away.

Instead, Loki warned, “This is going down on my list.”

Honestly? Thor didn’t know what that was supposed to mean or what it should mean to him, so he returned the squeeze and felt his lips stretch across his face in a wide, childlike grin. “Does this mean I’m certainly in your plans for the future?”

After an expected pause, Loki slowly shook his head. “I guess. We’ll see how it goes. I still don’t know where this is going.”

Softly, Thor murmured, “What did you think I would do?”

Loki didn’t hesitate to reply, and Thor didn’t know whether that was a good or a bad thing, but he was leaning towards the latter. “I thought you weren’t going to come. I was prepared to get stood up one day after Christmas.”

“I’m sorry I gave you that impression, Luke.”

Loki hummed noncommittally. "I bet you'd be happier if I were actually him."

"I'm perfectly happy with the way things are."

Another hum. Another pause. Had Thor truly committed that big of a mistake? Without a doubt, this was the perfect time to mess up.

“We’re still not in a relationship,” Loki piped up, deciding he had dragged out the torture long enough.

Thor raised Loki’s hand to his lips, a good-natured smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Of course not.”

Loki sent him a glare, but, when Thor did nothing but smile, he turned his head sideways with a huff. Thor, however, saw the twitch of his lips. “I mean it. No labels. I’m not your boyfriend or God forbid your ‘beloved’ or something equally nauseating.”

“ ‘Menace,’ then. ‘Pest’ suits you, too,” Thor supplied, feeling a flicker of pride for having successfully dodged an argument. Well, three arguments.

With a roll of his eyes, Loki rose to his feet, glowering at anyone who glanced in their direction. “C’mon, I already caused a scene. Might as well spread some rumours of our own.”

Dutifully, Thor nodded, whispering “menace” at Loki’s back. That earned him another glare, which soon softened when Thor smiled innocently, entwining his fingers with Loki’s as they were greeted by the frigid air of a winter day.


End file.
